Dismantling Evan (25 page)

Good for him? To tell me that he is sorry for being him? I shake my head from side to side, but Brody’s nodding for me to accept it continues as he repeats tenderly, “It will be good for him.”

Gavin clears his throat, pulling my attention back to him. He sits with his knees together tightly, back straight as a board, but head hung just enough to make eye contact with my smaller frame. The intense dark brown eyes that appeared frightening to me at Hamilton Pool when I touched him have transformed into a gentle shade of soft brown.

“I never meant to hurt you. When I felt your touch, I felt....different. It felt different.”

I notice Mrs. Ferguson look from Gavin to Brody to me, then back to Gavin as he continues.

“When someone touches me, it feels sticky, heavy, like it will never come off no matter how much I wash it. Sometimes it feels like an electric shock and frightens me.” He shakes his head. “Stupid.”

Mrs. Ferguson says his name, “Gavin,” in her mom voice.

He continues, “When you tried to pull my hand away to look at my eye, it felt different. Your touch wasn’t sticky or heavy or electric. It was small and light and feathery... but still a touch... something I don’t like at all. Something I have never liked... but yours, yours made me wonder if I could like it someday. I was confused and even though I knew you were trying to help me... I have always avoided touch. That’s when I pushed you away and I am so sorry, Evan.”

His voice is shaking as is his body as he looks between the three of us surrounding him.

“I forgive you, Gav,” I respond, my voice just as emotional as his.

All of a sudden, Gavin rises from the chair, breaking the tension, and walks stiff-legged through the living room and back down his hall, softly closing his door.

When he is sure Gavin is behind closed doors, Brody clears his throat. “He told me while I was calming him down at the pool.”

He shakes his head in what seems to be a mixture of amazement and frustration. “I didn’t expect him to say that and I was ready to strangle him for hitting her. God, Gavin,” Brody says aloud as he looks up at the ceiling.

Mrs. Ferguson has a look of shock on her face as she says, “Brody... this is a good thing.” Her eyes shoot to me. “It’s like he felt your intention, your compassion for the first time ever.”

Brody continues, “Yes, but he didn’t know what to do with what he was feeling. He reacted without thinking, Ma. He could have hurt her. It could have been a stranger.”

Mrs. Ferguson looks at me. “He said he was sorry,” then back at Brody, “He said he was sorry.”

Brody closes his eyes. “He is sorry now, but then... he reacted aggressively and without thinking.” Brody’s voice starts to get louder. “What if he does that at school? Next year, I won’t be there. I won’t be able to keep him under my thumb like I have been doing for the past three years.”

Mrs. Ferguson looks back at me. “I’m sorry Evan. I hope you don’t think I’m being insensitive to you. It’s just he has never shown this type of care. Are you hurt sweetheart?”

Still shocked by the discussion, I nod and say, “I’m fine.”

Brody continues, “It is getting worse, Ma.”

Mrs. Ferguson rises from her seat, picks up the bag of food and carries it around to the other side of the kitchen. “What do you want me to do, Brody? We can’t afford all the medications he needs. We had to pick and choose the ones he needed most!”

I hear the strain in her voice as she tells both Brody and I that he needs these medicines, but can’t afford them because of what happened... with her husband and their father... his mysterious disappearance in Afghanistan.

Mrs. Ferguson pops her head around the corner to look into the living room at me. “Evan, honey. You did nothing wrong, darling. If anything you have given Gavin something he has never experienced on his own accord. His psychiatrist, God bless him, told us at the last visit that he saw Gavin making great strides. This is the first we have seen of it for ourselves and it was because of you.”

She walks back to me, sits down, rests her hands on mine and smiles. “It is because of you I am seeing emotion in my son that I have never seen before.”

Her smile and her words should give me peace of mind, but Brody’s words have me torn about how much I have helped Gavin and how much is still needed.

He isn’t a kid that is being medicated just for the sake of achieving more focus in school or to cure issues with being mildly depressed, like me. His need for medication and assistance is imperative for him to function. Multiple disorders afflict Gavin, from all I have gathered over the past two months: first from Brody the night he trusted me enough to tell me about Gavin. How help for him cost money and time: counselors, doctors, psychologists, assistance at school and medication for his disorders. Now Mrs. Ferguson is saying that the cost of the medication he needs is too much for them to handle. 

“We need to find a way to get him help, Ma. The doctors, the medicine... he needs them.”

Mrs. Ferguson closes her eyes and looks up at the heavens like she is pleading with some higher force before she looks pointedly at Brody. “Maybe you should walk Evan home Brody. It’s getting late.”

That is my cue to get up and leave. She doesn’t want me hearing about the financial burden they have and I’m embarrassed for making her feel uncomfortable in her own house. I rise nervously. “I should get going. It is getting late.”

I have no idea what time it is and that is a bad thing because I haven’t checked my phone once. What if Mom has texted or called?

“Bye Mrs. Ferguson.” I extend my hand to shake hers and she graciously smiles, takes mine in hers and says, “Don’t be a stranger, Evan, and tell your mama I said hello, all right?”

Her southern twang comforts me. “I will Mrs. Ferguson.”

She rises from the sofa and walks away, into the kitchen as Brody comes to my side. “Let me get you home.” He places his hand on my back to guide me toward the front door.

His touch sends chills down my spine and stirs me into motion, getting me out their front door quickly with Brody close behind.

I’m leading the walk down his driveway by a few strides when I turn to him, bringing him to an abrupt halt. “I shouldn’t have been in there when your mom and you started talking about Gavin. I could tell it made her uncomfortable.”

He steps closer to me now. “Yeah, I just got worked up. Sorry about that.”

Looking him over, noticing the tension in his walk, I back away. I walk beside him as we pivot onto the sidewalk and move at a snail’s crawl. I’m partially to blame for the snail’s crawl. Even though this day has taken a dramatic turn, I don’t want to go home.

“Hey, um...what are you doing tonight?” Brody asks, nervously.

He must be talking about the typical late nights sitting out on his porch. “Porch time?” I say jokingly.

“I was actually thinking of changing it up a bit.”

I’m confused. Does he mean like the “D” word; a date?
No, that is stupid Evan! A date with Brody Ferguson?
“What do you mean?”

His brief silence has me on pins and needles as I wait for his response to the burning thought. What if he does ask me on a date?

I look over at him, just as his eyes meet mine. “What about your porch?”

“Oh,” is my immediate response.

So much for not getting my hopes up. I should have known better. Why would Brody Ferguson want to go on a date? I mean, he has dated the beauty queen known as Celine O’Keefe. I’m sure Brody isn’t lacking in the experience of dating; unlike me... the undated.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to meet any more,” he says, sounding disappointed.

“No, um... no that would be good,” I answer quickly, not wanting to make him think I don’t want to spend time with him. I did, I mean, I do.

“Really?” he asks, bowing his head to catch my eye with his. When I see that sexy crooked smile taking shape on his lips, I look up into the sky mainly because that smile excites me, but partly because I can’t stand seeing that smile without my own smile pulling at my lips and making me look like a lovesick fool for Brody Ferguson... which, of course, I am not.

“Yes, really,” I say, scratching my nose, trying to hide my joy. “I could show you my darkroom.”

Really Evan?
Just the phrase without any explanation sounds so creepy. As I stop at my front door with him close behind me, he scoffs, “Dark room?”

The look on his face shifts from curiosity to a seductive slyness that only a guy like Brody could pull off, making me consider swooning... but I don’t! “Sounds kind of... interesting, California,” he adds with a tone of enchantment to match his effortless game of seduction. Damn, he is good at making me uncomfortable... and making me feel like my face is as red as a beet.

I fold my arms over my chest, lean back on my heels, and look down at my painted pink toes.
Focus Evan!

“A darkroom is for developing film.” I pinch my eyes closed and instead of picturing Brody’s face, lips, and charming voice, I picture the workshed that Dad and Grandpa have been working on. “My dad and Grandpa have been working on one for me in the back.”

I open my eyes to get a read on him. “If you would like me to show you, that would be cool.”

His intimidatingly flirtatious smile becomes inviting and soothing even. Soothing enough to the point of me being able to resume breathing at a more normal rate. “Yeah, I’d like you to show me. You know, Gavin has that picture of the moon hanging in his room. I just happened to catch a glimpse of it one day when his door was open. He is so proud of it.”

I’m instantly keyed up to hear more. “Really?”

Brody tucks his hands in his swim trunk pockets, “He showed it to Mom. She asked him if he took it himself or if you or I helped him.”

“Did you tell her he did it himself?” I ask urgently, hoping he had told her that he did in fact manipulate the lens on his own and take the picture.

Brody nods. “Yeah, I did.” He chuckles, “I was impressed when I saw it, but Ma was blown away.”

Remembering that night, I feel at ease with Brody again as we stand, talking like old friends, when my front door lock shifts and the door opens.

Mom holds the door open widely and looks from me to Brody. “Hi, it’s Brody, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Brody says as he pulls his hands from his shorts’ pockets and extends one to shake my mother’s hand. “I met you briefly at the BBQ,” Brody adds.

My mom offers him a small, reserved smile, which makes me a little nervous. “Yes, I remember seeing you there. Your mother and I went to school together actually.”

Looking between my mom and Brody, I notice him glance at me when she comments about his mother. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

I look away.

Dad approaches the front door, casually. Grand, it is attack of the parentals! A panic attack should be poised to strike right about... now.

“Hey Brody. Aaron Phillips.” Dad and Brody shake hands, firmly.

Brody makes direct eye contact as he speaks to him. “Mr. Phillips. Very nice to meet you, sir.”

Brody speaks so formally with my parents; it’s weird but fascinating.

“Wow, I hope those manners rub off on Evan,” Dad chides, popping a kernel of popcorn in his mouth as he looks at me sideways. I glance at Mom and notice her smile is even more reserved than before. I don’t put it past her to say something to Brody if she feels he isn’t a good influence on me. I don’t want to give her more opportunity to say something stupid and hurtful.

Sensing that this introduction needs to be cut short, before anything else is said, specifically from Mom, I put on a false smile and say, “Thanks for walking me home Brody.”

His smile falters a little as his eyes dart from Dad’s to mine. “Sure, anytime.”

His smile drops, and I get the feeling he has misunderstood my eagerness to end the conversation. He turns, stiffly, and walks down the driveway with his hands tucked into his pockets. Coldness settles around me, like I have just pushed him away and out of my life.

Damn it!

I step to the edge of the porch and call out to him. “See you later?”

He stops at the edge of the driveway, turns back and give me an unconvincing nod with an equally ambiguous half smile before disappearing behind the set of shrubs that separates his garden and ours.

Chilled to the bone, I cross my arms over my chest, and brush past Mom and Dad. I’m not sure I will see Brody tonight.

“We need to have a talk Evan,” are the first words out of Mom’s mouth when she closes the front door.

“Why?” I say as I turn to face her.

“Didn’t you see my phone messages? You have been gone for six hours Evan with no text or call back!” Mom’s eyes are bugging out like they do when she is really pissed. I pull out my phone and the screen lights up showing five missed calls and three progressively frantic texts:

12:30 pm Mom:
Call me back. Just checking on you.

1:30 pm Mom:
Where are you? Who are you with?

1:45 pm Mom:
Evan, call me!

Another pops up as I read.

2:30 pm Nikki:
Where r u? Ur mom is blowing up my mom’s phone. Call me.